Despair In The Departure Lounge
by Appointment
Summary: Hermione is tormented by a personal decision. R/Hr.


**A/N: Written as an audition piece for the So You Think You Can Write Competition. Inner Demons being the theme, Hermione is tormented. I don't own the lyrics below, but it's a brilliant song. Arctic Monkeys, check them out.  
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><p><em>despair in the departure lounge<em>

_"he's pining for her, in a people carrier. there might be buildings, and pretty things to see like that, but architecture won't do. although it might say a lot about the city or town, I don't care what they've got, keep on turning them down. It don't say the funny things she does, don't even try and cheer him up because it just won't happen."  
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><p>The noise in the airport should have been unbearable, but to Hermione, it was muted, shoved and shirted towards the background while he tried in vain to think of something to say, anything to say. Muggles swarmed, yelling and running past, but she felt as if the silence stretching between Ron and herself was unbearable. She managed a smile for him, but it was strained, and it was evident Ron knew that there was no real happiness behind it.<p>

"This is for the best," she murmured, gently grasping his hands in hers, "But, I'm glad, at least... that we'll get this. Closure. I would never want to end what we've had over an owl, or... well, you know what I mean."

"I..." Ron couldn't finish his sentence, and perhaps for the first time in his life, he could think of absolutely _nothing_ to say. Well, there were a few words. Words like 'please stay' and 'don't leave me'. And of course, those words would never have left him.

He wasn't the best with words, but he didn't usually struggle for a way to put forth his thoughts. Fear rushed over him, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he was making the biggest mistake of his life.

When Hermione had applied for spot in Magical Law all the way in New York, she had done it on a whim, knowing it would be nearly impossible for her to attend there. But she had been given a large sum of money and occupational experience, better than any of the jobs she had applied to near her home, and so to turn it down seemed foolish. Not to mention a wasted opportunity, one that offered a good education and a chance to travel. To think that she would be going to a new Ministry in a different country was disconcerting, but it didn't start to scare her until Ron had told her that he didn't want a long distance relationship a few months prior. It wouldn't work.

"I can't do that, Hermione," he had said to her, "You know how I watched my sister try to handle that. She just ended up hating Harry."

"We're not Harry and Ginny, though." Hermione had said numbly, stunned to realize that she hadn't even considered the possibility of him wanting to end their relationship.

"I know that, 'Mione, you've shown me that time after time, but..." and here he had hesitated, before finishing, "It's been on and off. It's been so bloody turbulent, and sometimes I really don't know whats going on with you. You're going to be in a different country now, Hermione, and I – I don't know anymore."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," she had argued, feeling foolish at using the oft-quoted phrase.

"What, did you read that in one of your books?" he had replied so bitterly and icily, it had scared her. If everything was going to change for her, she wanted him to continue to be hers, consistent in her life until the day she _died_.

"We could at least try," she had replied, "How do you know we can't make it work?"

"We'll see each other once a year at most," he had shot back, "I don't even know if I'll be able to _afford _sending overseas all the time. Eventually we're going to get tired, worn down, and then we'll be parting on bad terms."

Hermione hadn't had anything to say after that, knowing that he was right even if she didn't want to admit it.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

She honestly believed that he loved her, and she had grown so accustomed to having her with him that it seemed strange and impossible to consider her being with someone else, somewhere else. At the same time, though, she didn't want to leave for somewhere new and strange with him angry at her, or vice versa.

"I'm not saying we can't still be friends," Ron had continued softly, his voice almost broken, "But we shouldn't end this on a vague note, and I think we'll both be happier starting fresh at someplace new."

She had cried.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I never meant to hurt you."

She laughed quietly to herself, because _she_ was the one hurting _him_.

After that, they had seen each other very rarely. The rest of the summer had gone by quickly, almost too quickly for Hermione's taste. She had said her goodbyes to her friends a week before, including Ron, and the last thing she had expected was to see him here now, at a Muggle airport, ready to say goodbye when he had been there since the beginning of it all.

Her thoughts were pushed back to the present when a man had bumped into her rather roughly, grumbling incoherently to himself about rude kids. Ron blinked a couple times, and looked down at Hermione's teary-eyed face, and knew what to say.

"I'll miss you," he said to her, "But you're right, it's really your decision, and... I hope you find someone that deserves you. If you end up with some nasty git I'll have to spend money on a plane ticket to come back and kick his arse."

"I can kick arse just as well as you, Ronald, and you know it." she had said, laughing through her tears.

"You should probably go, though. It's almost 10:00." Almost as an afterthought, she stepped forward and hugged him, so tight she wondered if his breathing was still possible, before kissing him on his cheek in a gesture that was nearly shy.

"Bye, Hermione," he told her, letting go of her regrettably.

She slung her bag over her shoulder, preparing to board, though she paused mid-turn, words caught in her throat. She had wanted to turn back almost immediately, jump into his arms, and forget about everyone and everything.

And now, sitting in a crowded aeroplane, she can't help but feel ever-so alone.

She can't help but wonder if everything she had done, all the choices she had made, if they were all wrong.


End file.
